


daredevil mini fics

by mercuryhatter



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Drabble Collection, Gen, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-30
Updated: 2015-04-30
Packaged: 2018-03-26 13:23:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3852472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mercuryhatter/pseuds/mercuryhatter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>things people prompt me on tumblr (remyleneau)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. things you said too quietly

**Author's Note:**

> prompted by chrysanthemumskies

“Be safe,” Foggy murmured, but Matt had already dropped out of the window, leaving Karen and Foggy to hold hands and pretend they weren’t worrying in Claire’s apartment. When Matt rolled back in the window hours later, they were asleep in a knot on Claire’s couch, and Claire was just returning from her night shift. She rolled her eyes fondly at the scene, giving Matt a kiss before stepping quickly in front of him to get the first shower. 

“Be safe,” Karen said into her knuckles, pressed up against her lips like a prayer, as she and Foggy sat arm in arm and watched shaky surveillance footage of Matt on the news. Claire was out of town and so they camped out in Matt’s apartment, armed with instant coffee and the basic first aid skills Claire had taught them all before she left. Matt didn’t come back that night, and Foggy and Karen ate bagels for breakfast and tried to function like people who had no idea the person behind the horned mask. 

The next time Matt rolled through Claire’s window it was all wrong, limp and heavy with none of the usual grace or ease, and Foggy could have happily lived the rest of his life never hearing the wet groan that came out of Matt as he hit the floor. Karen got Claire on the phone immediately, her hands almost as sure on her own if not as trained as Claire’s, but Foggy hung back, eyes frozen on the knife still sticking out from Matt’s side, the dark blood running through half-conscious fingers. Later he cleaned that blood off the floor with shaking hands while Karen stitched Matt up on the couch, her quiet voice running a litany of encouragement and comfort. She slept in the armchair while Foggy drifted off fitfully curled on the floor by the couch, his head just touching Matt’s shoulder. 

At Matt’s first stir Foggy woke with a start, then gripped Matt’s hand with probably too much force for someone recovering from a stab wound, but at that moment Foggy didn’t care. 

_“You have to be safe for me,”_ Foggy hissed into Matt’s neck, all of the tears he’d been holding back the whole night suddenly bursting their dam. He pressed his face into Matt’s shoulder and shook quietly as Matt brushed sluggish fingers through his hair. 

“I’m sorry, Foggy, I’m sorry,” he mumbled, leaving the words like kisses on Foggy’s forehead.


	2. the cane mystery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompted by polycool-kids: "i want u to write about foggy having to guide matt to the store to by another g-d damn cane bc he threw yet another in the dumpster lmao"

“I’m just _baffled_ ,” Foggy said, gesticulating wildly with the arm that didn’t have Matt’s hand on it. “Where do they all go? What could you possibly be doing with them?”  


“I told you, a cane bandit lives under my stairs. Little goblin thing, just snatches them right up.”   


Foggy groaned loudly around his automatic murmur of “cross here” as they turned off the sidewalk. 

“If there is actually a goblin living in your building– well, okay, I wouldn’t be completely surprised, but that’s still concerning. If there’s a guy who lurks under stairs to snatch your cane, that’s even more concerning, but also neither of those things are true because I’ve walked with you into your place a million times– step up here. Are you sure you didn’t just leave it in your apartment somewhere? Forget to check a corner?”  


“Foggy, I’m sure,” Matt laughed. “All right, all right. Actually it’s the alligators. The sewer ones, you know? I walk past any storm drain and bam, they snatch it right up–” he devolved into giggles as Foggy pushed him, although the push lost some of its vehemence when Foggy immediately caught him by the elbow again so Matt could replace his hand.   


“This is why all we’ve got in the office is that copier that’s so old it probably runs on gears. How much do these things go for anyway? Are you just feeding all your money to sundry goblins and alligators?”  


“They’re only twenty bucks, thirty at most,” Matt said, shrugging, causing Foggy to throw his hand up again.  


“Twenty bucks! That’s like, five bottles of Josie’s weird eel juice! Think of what you’re _missing_!” Foggy lamented, holding open the door of the shop for Matt. “Look, okay, look.” He placed a hand on each of Matt’s shoulders and wheeled him to face the rack of canes. “Is it still these you like?” Matt checked the Braille tag and nodded. “Great. Wait here a sec.” 

Foggy returned a moment later and shoved at least ten canes into Matt’s hands, causing Matt to nearly collapse from laughter. 

“Foggy–”  


“Now when fucking cane-stealing pigeons fly down from the sky or _whatever_  you will be prepared, dammit!” Foggy declared. “And I will be sober for a month, that was my entire drinking budget. Whatever, buddy, worth it.”   


Matt straightened up just long enough to grab Foggy’s arm and mash his face into Foggy’s shoulder so that he wouldn’t actually _fall on the floor_  with the force of his laughter– it took them at least ten minutes for Matt to regain himself long enough to leave the store. 

This was fine by Foggy, who spent the whole time watching Matt laugh and feeling quietly pleased with himself for putting that much mirth on Matt’s face, far too serious and quiet and sad lately for Foggy’s liking. 


	3. ash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompted by adhdpietromaximoff: "matt and whoever else + ash"

One night, a few days after they put Fisk away, Foggy walked into Matt’s apartment to see him leaning against the window, a scrap of black fabric held loosely in one hand. 

“Hey,” Foggy said; he still preferred to beat Matt to the greeting even though he knew now he would never sneak up on him. Force of habit. 

“Hey,” Matt said dully, his head shifting slightly towards Foggy’s presence. 

“What are you doing?” 

Matt sighed, a full-body motion that rolled through his shoulders. 

“It just feels weird. It feels over, but I know it’s not. And now you know, and soon Karen will know, and I’m not just a guy in a mask anymore– I have a symbol to uphold. It’s just… weird.” 

“Sounds weird,” Foggy replied, joking but sympathetic in a balance only he could strike. Matt felt him move closer and settled into his hand when it landed on his lower back. They stood in silence for a while– or, Foggy did, while Matt allowed the familiar heartbeat to roll through him, eyes half-lidded. 

“Hey, I have an idea,” Foggy said, his voice a soft overlay onto the quieter sounds of his body. “Let’s burn this.” Matt let him tug the old mask out of his hand, but chuckled, skeptical and surprised. 

“What?” He followed Foggy across the floor as Foggy dropped the mask into the kitchen sink. “Foggy, we are not burning that in the house. Why are we burning it anyway?”

“I dunno, man, it just helps, all right? New beginnings and all that. Trust me, you’ll feel better.” 

Matt was still skeptical, but if nothing else Foggy had gotten him to laugh. And Matt followed him up the stairs to the roof, hand nestled into the curve of his elbow because neither of them were willing to drop that particular premise. After several false starts and burnt fingertips, Matt could feel the ash as it floated over the cityscape below, flakes of hotter matter over a tapestry of sound and smell and movement. Foggy held his hand and they let the old black mask go, and as the last bit of it was caught by the wind Matt could feel, without ever making the decision consciously, that he would never lie to Foggy again.


	4. so what if I broke my arm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompted by shrapnelcascade: "“So what if I broke my arm I’m still doing it.” + Matt and Claire"

"So what if I broke my arm? I’m still doing it,” Claire insisted, and to be fair Matt had seen far worse injuries on his body and others. He’d never had to set a bone before, but he’d seen it done, and it shouldn’t be bothering him. It was no worse than sutures, was it?

It was bothering him.

“Are you sure you can’t go to the hospital first?” Matt tried, and immediately regretted it as he watched Claire’s eyes go wide and her chest puff up.  


“Oh, can’t I just go to the hospital! Wow, wouldn’t that make everything easier? Why doesn’t everyone just go to the hospital when they get injured! I thought it was _required_ to find an innocent bystander to sit around being stubborn with! It’s almost like _I’m doing this all wrong, isn’t it?”_    


Matt sat silently, looking sheepish, but also a little like he was hiding a laugh. Claire thought to herself that he didn’t look nearly as chastised as she thought he should. She let out an explosive sigh.

“Yes, you meatball, take me to the hospital.”


End file.
